Crimson
by FanGirl999
Summary: Draco reflects on something’s he knows, and learns something new. Mild Slash implications and references to self harm.
1. Crimson Thoughts

**A/N**- I got bored late at night so I the random drabble was born (this happens far too often). Anyway, I don't own the characters etc etc etc, only the imagination, so please don't nick.

**Summery**- Draco discovers somethings that he never knew.

xx

Crimson, bright, shining, drops gathering into a pool, brilliantly contrasting the mahogany of the desk onto which it falls. The colour is radiant, especially in the harsh bathroom lights. It is enthralling, or is it only I who feels that way? The way it throbs beneath your skin and when the fragile tissue is severed, the pulsating river mutates into the source of the stream, blood pumping out of the gash in the earth. I find it truly hypnotic. On the other hand, Harry, who has just entered the room, does not. He doesn't understand.

Even whilst he grabs the knife from my hand, I do not acknowledge his presence. I am to absorbed in the spilling of precious life force to hear the wasted words that he is shouting at me. And why should I listen? He does not understand the liberation that can be found in slicing into virgin flesh, marring and jading it for the entire world to see.

My head is beginning to lose its grip on reality; a sensation of it being weightless and not attached has come over it. Strange, I had not anticipated this too happen, yet at the same time I am not surprised. I find my gaze torn from the engraving by my head lolling back, my neck unable to support my head. I am instead focused upon his eyes, the green tinted with worry and panic. This is a night for firsts. I have never seen him in a sate like this before, even when his friends are in mortal peril, he never loses his cool.

The blood loss is taking its toll. I am surprised I lasted this long without losing consciousness. I smile sickeningly as the pain in my wrist flares up as he trys to stem the flow; I always believed that if you were going to die, you should feel it, know that it was your final stand and that there is nothing you can do. I find that I was right, as usual. Before my sight looses all of its focus, I notice that he has tears streaming down his face. He looks so desperate, so in need of help, and all of a sudden, I do not want to go just yet. But it is too late.


	2. Not Too Late

- Harry's POV after the death of Draco, he realises that it's not too late for somethings-

Never before noticed the way that the light slips out of people's eyes when they die. They just seem to glass over, lose their sparkle. I know it sounds clichéd, but it's like a Demetor taking a soul, but less forceful, and more deadly. Maybe I never noticed before because I was always too busy to see. Always fighting.

I never felt guilty about those deaths, because I know that I could never have prevented them. People assume that I feel guilty, but you know what they say, it makes an 'ass' out of you and not 'me'. But I feel like this life was unnecessarily taken. He didn't need to die, and was entirely my fault. I could have gotten there sooner, could have called the ambulance earlier, could have used magic, could have done a million fucking things, but in my heart of hearts I know, that not an ounce of it would have made a difference. He was dead from the minute he stepped into the room.

It's sad; well they say it's sad, that he died so young. Who am I kidding; I'm the only person on this God forsaken planet who cares. They all wanted him dead, thought he deserved to for what he did, for those he inadvertently killed. I'm the only one who's sad.

Fuck them all. They never knew him. 'They' don't know anything. They think they know 'The Boy Who Lived', what about 'The Boy Who Didn't'? They chose to judge him than to learn, that's what 'they' do. They are sheep, that's all. They unquestionably follow the pack, allow themselves to be brain washed into hating a an innocent whose parents got mixed up in the wrong crowd. A man, barely out of childhood, who was forced to chose between saving his parents or people who had hated him for years.

Who would you chose? And don't say 'the school', because only someone with no heart could press a wand to the heads of their parents and use the killing curse. That is what He demanded, and what he could not give. So don't you dare judge him.

He never knew I loved him.

That's the one thing I regret, never telling him. That is what makes me feel so guilty. The knowledge that I could have given him love, and happiness before he was gone forever; but because of my prejudices and 'morals' I didn't. All those years that we fought, I can never forgive myself. All those times I teased and ridiculed him, let my so-called friends do the same; joined the flock because it was easier just to do so. It was all my fault he was in that station bathroom.

It was because of me that he couldn't face returning to Hogwarts. Because, although I cleared his name with the authorities, I didn't want the press to know that I had. Because of that they never believed he was innocent. I doubt that Rita would have believed his innocence even if I had a press conference, or a private interview with her, but at least some of the others may have, at least I would have tried.

It isn't too late now, though. I can tell them all the truth; I will shout it to the heavens if that's what it takes for them to believe me. I will tell them of his innocence, I will tell them that it is me who is to blame for his death; I will tell them that their 'Golden Boy' is not as pure as they thought.

I will prove them wrong, because it is the last thing that I can do for him, and hopefully that will be enough.


End file.
